


you were the one that left me haunted

by softzindagi



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Goes into post white house too, M/M, White House Era (Crooked Media RPF), a real masochist and lovett totally calls him out on it, added the smutty epilogue for yall, an idiot we all love, if the word yearn was a fic, not real obvs this is fiction, post jon leaves dc, tommy has a lot of feelings okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-09-29 21:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20442533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softzindagi/pseuds/softzindagi
Summary: Tommy wants to go back and have it be that easy again but that can’t happen. They’re too far away and too busy. It doesn’t stop Tommy from wanting though– he’ll always be wanting the one person he can’t seem to have.--alternative title: the quiet you’re leaving is louder than screaming





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finalshow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finalshow/gifts).

> This fic is a work of fiction. PLEASE don't share this with the people named, don't be an asshole. We operate under strict secrecy. 
> 
> This fic was written in under 78 hours. Those 78 hours feel like a fever dream- I rode that inspirational kick hard. 
> 
> This fic is 100% dedicated to and inspired by my best friend Victoria, who is my hype man and my wonderful beta. I literally wrote this because I wanted to capture the word YEARN in a fic for her because she dragged me into the podsa fandom not even two months ago and here I am writing a 12k fic. Thank you, Victoria, for being my inspo and for beta-ing my fic (esp taking all my commas out, no one deserved to read my first draft but you did so you're a trooper). I LOVE YOU!
> 
> Things to note: This doesn't follow the true timeline of Tommy's life and time in the WH. I made some changes to fit the story. So, I guess canon-divergent?? Can that apply to real life? 
> 
> title from The Band CAMINO's song "haunted"  
alternative title from VÉRITÉ 's song "gone"
> 
> Please enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first part is not explicit, so if you're not into smut, you can read this without reading the epilogue which is smutty.

“Do you miss me yet?” is the first thing that Jon says when he answers the phone.

“You’ve been gone for five hours, you’re not even on the plane and out of DC yet,” Tommy says, but his heart isn’t in it. Tommy is sitting at his desk, finally getting some time alone after a morning of meetings that have left him feeling a little on edge. Hearing Jon’s voice is relieving in a way that Tommy knows he has to unlearn.

“So? You should be missing me already! Your world should be upended by my departure, you should be absolutely gutted,” Jon replies, teasing in the way Jon always teases Tommy: familiar and annoying. Tommy has been trying not to think about how Jon left that morning, how they’d hugged, their first full bodied hug where Jon held on too long, looking choked up as he pulled away. Tommy has been trying not to think about how he can still feel Jon’s arms around his middle, how Tommy had wanted to drop his head on top of Jon’s and just hold on as tight as he could, but he didn’t let himself do that because he knew that he’d never let go.

“Jon,” Tommy says, trying to sound long-suffering instead of earnest. “My world has been upended and I am absolutely gutted.”

“See, that’s all I needed to hear.” Tommy can hear Jon’s smile in his voice. “I’m the golden sun to your overcast skies.”

“Well, you’re certainly a reprieve from the morning meetings I’ve been having,” Tommy sighs, slumping into his seat and pressing his forefingers into his temple.

“Everything okay?” Jon asks, sounding very careful.

“Lovett,” Tommy begins, ready to tell him again that he can’t talk about it, but he stops himself, not wanting to ruin Jon’s flight with any worries. It’s nothing Jon needs to worry about. “Yeah, things are just busy. Too many meetings all at once.”

“Information overload, yes. I don’t miss that at all,” Jon gingerly replies. “Did I tell you I got an email saying my clearance has been taken away? Not even two days out of that place and I’m already a fully private citizen.”

“Does it feel as good as you imagined?” He hopes it does, knows Jon was miserable near the end.

“You bet it is,” Jon declares. “I can finally say whatever I want and not worry about making my boss look bad. A free man.”

“You always say whatever you want,” Tommy mutters, tinged with a bit of envy. Jon has always been good at letting everyone know what he’s feeling and thinking at the drop of a hat. Tommy wants to cultivate that ability, but he over thinks his words constantly, which thankfully makes him good at his job. What it doesn’t make him good at is relationships.

“I do not! At least not in public,” Jon exclaims. Tommy stays silent for a few moments until Jon amends. “Not in front of people who can record my statements.”

“Thank god for that. We wouldn’t have been able to cover for you in the press.”

There’s an intercom that sounds through the phone and Jon sighs. “That’s my gate, they’re starting to seat my group.”

“Have fun traveling back in time,” Tommy offers weakly, looking up to stop the prickling feeling at the corners of his eyes. “Have a safe flight and call me when you land.”

“I want to make an ‘okay, dad’ joke but that feels wrong in this instance,” Jon grouses, but he goes softer. “Yeah, you’ll be my first call.”

“I’m honored,” Tommy replies, knowing he sounds too sincere for his own good. “Bye, Jon.”

“Bye, Tommy. Please go eat something and go annoy Favs for me.” Tommy laughs, knowing Favs will roll his eyes when Tommy tells him that.

“I will. It’ll be like you’re not even gone.” Gone, fuck. Jon’s really going to be gone.

“You’re no replacement for me, Thomas Vietor,” Jon declares, but there’s no bite. “But I enjoy your lack of conviction because you know no one can replicate my level of exuberance.”

“Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Go get on your plane,” Tommy says, too fond. He hates how suddenly empty he’s feeling.

“Right,” Jon says, like he’s remembering that he should probably end their call. “Bye!”

“Bye,” Tommy says, but Jon has already hung up.

Tommy sits for a while, slumped in his chair, staring at the ceiling, feeling all the emotions he’s not allowed himself to feel the last few days. The loss he feels - an emptiness that coincides with the empty apartment he’ll be going back to each night because he can’t bring himself to find a new roommate. The sadness that seems to eat at him because he feels like Jon left him, even though he knows that’s not true; Jon wanted to chase his dreams and Tommy is happy for him, he is. But selfishly, he can’t help feeling bereft and like he lost something vital.

Ben passes by and gives him an assessing look. Tommy straightens, pushing his feelings down - something he’s very good at doing.

“Everything alright?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a little tired,” Tommy lies. “Had to drop off Lovett to the airport this morning. Were you headed to our next meeting?”

Ben lets Tommy deflect, for which Tommy is grateful. Tommy lets Ben talk and lead him into their next meeting, careful to not let anyone see just how much he feels.

He doesn’t go immediately home, instead deciding to stall that part of his day even longer, waiting for Jon to call him back. He’d thought about going to hang out with Favs, but he knows Favs is still at work trying to finish a speech for the next day. Instead, Tommy finds himself walking the blocks around his apartment aimlessly. He walks and observes, seeing a lot of dogs and their owners, joggers, and people waiting outside restaurants for a table. It makes him feel less alone, oddly enough, and it allows him to channel his brain to other avenues.

Finally, when he knows he can’t avoid it any longer, he walks home. It’s just as lonely as he knows it will be, the space emptier with Jon’s things gone, cleaner without the mess that seems to follow Jon around. He grabs a beer and the leftovers from the night before and trudges to his room, hating the silence that surrounds him. He doesn’t put the TV on even though he knows he should put something on so that he doesn’t feel suffocated by his own thoughts.

His ring tone sounds, and he scrambles to answer it. Later, he’ll be embarrassed over how utterly eager he is for Jon’s call but in that moment, he can’t find it in himself to care. 

“I’ve landed!” Jon exclaims, not bothering to say a greeting. “I’ve landed and I’m off that god forsaken plane. Tommy, I’m never taking a connecting flight ever again, that was horrendous. Only direct flights from here on out, I refuse anything else!”

“That sounds expensive,” Tommy offers, breathing a sigh tinged with relief. He hadn’t fully realized that he’d worked himself up waiting for Jon’s call to say he’s made it, but the relief he feels is evidence of the contrary.

“I can afford it! Well, not yet, but soon!” 

“You’ll be selling your script in no time and be too famous to even remember me and Favs,” Tommy says, wincing at his words immediately. He sounds petulant, petty even.

“Don’t fish for compliments, Tommy,” Jon replies, but he’s laughing. “Forget you two? My two WASPy best friends? I’d sooner dedicate characters to you both.”

“I’m always here to offer up any inspiration you need.”

“Promises, promises,” Jon teases. “Hold on, I need to grab my checked bags.” There’s some grunting and a curse, but Jon comes back triumphant. “Jonathan Ira Lovett: 1, 90-pound suitcase: 0.”

“That poor suitcase has been through the ringer,” Tommy says, just to say something. He wants this call to last as long as it can, but he knows Jon will have other calls to make and a taxi to hail.

“This poor suitcase has been through so much, huh,” Jon muses. “New York, Florida, Iowa, DC.”

“LA,” Tommy adds, a horrible sinking feeling forming in his gut.

“LA,” Jon echoes, wistful. “Who would’ve thought little ol’ me would be in LA.”

“You always knew,” Tommy says, remembering all the times Jon had promised Tommy he’d make it big and Tommy would have one more famous friend other than the Obamas.

“I was wishfully optimistic.”

“And yet, there you are, chasing your dreams.” Tommy is proud of Jon, he really is, so he tries to put as much pride into his words as he can.

“I am, huh.” He can hear the smile in Jon’s voice and the sinking feeling loosens its grip. “Listen, I have to go but I’ll call you tomorrow okay? You need to sleep, anyways. What is it, 10 o’clock there?”

“Almost 11,” Tommy states, disappointment flooding through him. He doesn’t want this call to end.

“See! You should be asleep,” Jon replies. “Goodness, what am I going to do with you?”

“I’ll sleep soon,” Tommy acquiesces, fully knowing that he probably won’t. It’ll be a fitful sleep until he wakes up an hour before he normally goes for his morning workout and it’ll be the worst.

“Good. The nation needs you on your A game, Vietor,” Jon teases. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Jon. Call me when you have time.” Hopeful, god he sounds so damn hopeful, like a puppy waiting for belly rubs.

Jon laughs. “I will, don’t you worry.” The call ends and then the silence falls over him like a too heavy blanket.

Tommy is right about his sleep. He lies in bed and stares up at his ceiling in the darkness like somehow, he’ll find answers to his problems in the blackness. His room gets too hot, but he doesn’t move to lower the temperature - something Jon would’ve done with all the complaints in the world. He hears the AC kick on and almost starts out of bed, his mind numb and dazed, like maybe Jon is there. But he’s not- he’s not fucking there. He’s gone, just like so many people Tommy has loved. He’ll chide himself tomorrow on how dumb that is, how Jon is not actually gone, how he’s just a phone call away, but in that moment, he lets the devastation and loneliness take hold of him.

He wakes up groggy, eyes burning from not getting enough sleep, and peers at his bedside clock. 4:42. He gets up with an angry grunt and doesn’t try to be quiet, because there’s no one to be quiet for. There’s no one to be quiet for.

\--

The week following Jon’s exodus is a tough one because Tommy isolates himself. Favs and Dan try to invite him out twice, but Tommy says he’s too tired, which they can all see on his face. The bags under his eyes are bigger than they have been since that first year in the White House, but no one comments on it. They all have troubles with sleep, and no one really acknowledges it unless it’s to say, “get some sleep, okay?” No one tries to tell him that though, they just offer him a sympathetic look, tell him what he needs to know to do his job, and leaves him to it. 

Which makes Favs coming over to his desk a full week after Jon’s departure all the more surprising.

“You doing okay, Tommy?” Favs asks, trying to seem casual, but Tommy knows Favs too well.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy replies, waving his hand. “Just a lot going on.” He doesn’t try to follow that excuse up with anything, because of course things are busy, they work for the White House for god's sake.

“Yeah, I’ve been swamped trying to find someone to replace Lovett,” Favs sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I should’ve done it when he gave me his notice, but I never had the time.”

Tommy nods, understanding how quickly Jon’s departure date had crept up on them. Out of sight, out of mind, or something like that. “I still haven’t found a new roommate.”

“You still thinking about leasing there? I thought the lease was up soon?”

Tommy has thought about that and every day that idea looked more and more ideal. Everywhere he looks in the apartment he sees the ghost of Jon. There’s the Diet Coke stain on the couch that never quite went away no matter what Tommy and Jon dared to try so they left it there; a beauty mark, Jon had christened it. There’s the dent in the wall Jon made with his elbow when he was running late one morning and was scrambling to pull his pants on. There’s the ugly and tacky armchair Jon had bought on a whim at a yard sale and made Tommy lug up to their apartment - one of the few items he hadn’t sold and left to Tommy instead with Tommy begrudgingly agreeing that the chair may be ugly but it was comfortable as hell. There’s the box of clothes Jon had stolen from Tommy and left for Tommy to rediscover in his closet a few days after Jon had left, the trace of Jon’s musk and body wash lingering on each sweatshirt and t-shirt.

It’s in those moments that Tommy realizes just how much of his life in the last year Jon has infiltrated. They’d done so much together- grocery shopping, bar hopping with Favs, and lazy nights in watching crime dramas. It’s jarring to realize, but he should’ve known that’s what happened. Jon is his own special blend of smart, funny, and god damn annoying that it was hard not to let him settle himself into the nooks and crannies of your life.

So, yeah, Tommy had thought about moving and getting a one bedroom. He could afford one if he looked in the right places. At least then he could start fresh.

“Yeah, just have to start looking,” Tommy sighs heavily. “I think I will this weekend.”

“Good, that’s good,” Favs returns, putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezing. “If you want a break and want to go to a bar or something, just let me know, okay? It’s been weird not having Lovett around but that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.”

“Yeah, of course,” Tommy says, feeling guilty. He’d been avoiding Favs as much as possible, because Favs and Jon were always attached at the hip. He has to stop that association, because Favs doesn’t deserve Tommy’s weirdness, especially over something that affects both of them. Tommy offers him a tired smile. “How about Thursday? There should be a Patriots game on, if I’m not mistaken. I could come over to yours?”

“Yeah, there is! Let’s definitely do that,” Favs agrees, smiling big and earnest. “Fuck, I’m so glad football season is starting again. I need the stress relief.”

Tommy let’s Favs carry the conversation, the feeling of anxiety that Tommy hadn’t really addressed loosening itself from his ribcage.

\--

Tommy is sitting in his hotel room in Seoul and he can’t fucking sleep. It’s 4 am and he’s so tired, but he just can’t do it. He’s tried taking an ambien, but his insomnia is not letting up. He’s fallen in an out of sleep for two hours, but there’d been some people outside his hotel room that’d woken him up and now he can’t stop his mind from running. He wants to be sharp in the morning, to stay toe to toe with the press corps, and he’d taken the ambien in hopes that it would do _something_ to help him, but he’s not had great luck in that department.

He’s put the bedside lamp on now and is going through his notes on his phone, but he can’t concentrate. He lets his mind wander, which he should know by now is a dangerous thing. Nothing good ever comes from it. He’s not let himself think about his feelings for Jon Lovett, because it’s been clear to him that they are many and complicated.

He’s not dated anyone since his broken engagement and moving in with Jon over two years ago. He hadn’t wanted to, at the time, didn’t feel up for putting himself out there in the fear of getting hurt. Jon had put so much into making him feel better, had made Tommy do things with him and Favs to keep him busy. At the time, Tommy hadn’t thought about just how much time he spent with Jon, but he spent 80% of his free time and 30% of his workdays with Jon.

Favs was there a lot, but Jon always seemed to take control of Tommy’s attention, of Favs’ too. It was Jon that Tommy followed, like they were attached by a string that tugged tight the farther they were apart. Previously, the string tugged the tightest when Jon moved to LA, but over time it loosened because they talked every other day. But now, it’s been over a week since they talked, and Tommy would give just about anything to hear Jon’s voice.

Maybe he’s known all along, just how vital Jon became to keeping Tommy’s sanity from tipping over the edge, but Tommy was too chicken shit to admit it to himself. Because of course he should have known he’d fallen in love with his best friend, but these things are too hard to admit to yourself when you’re already in deep denial about everything else in your life. The days are busy, so it’s been easy to push all his emotions down, but in this hotel room, thousands of miles away from Jon and even further from his life in DC, they bubble to the surface. It’s somehow easier to come to terms with things when you’re halfway across the world in the deep of night and unable to communicate with anyone.

If he looks back, he could probably pinpoint when things started to change. His friendship with Jon was never the same kind of friendship he and Favs shared. He and Favs were brotherly, a comradery paved through months in Chicago and then continuing on to bigger jobs on Obama’s campaign. With Jon it started at a time in Tommy’s life where everything was changing and then living with him after a harrowing heartbreak; well, Tommy isn’t surprised by the outcome.

But specifically, he can’t pinpoint when things took on the romantic turn. He just wanted to make Jon smile and laugh. That turned into wanting to pin Jon down when Jon got to be too much and just kiss him senseless. He never did that, they never crossed that line, but Tommy was more affectionate and intense when they’d had a couple of drinks and Jon always seemed receptive.

There was one night, when Lovett had gotten drunker than normal and Tommy had to lead them both home. Jon had pressed himself against Tommy’s body as Tommy was trying to get their front door open, and Tommy had pressed right back, his mind hazy but clear enough to feel that Jon had been hard. Before anything could happen, Jon pulled away and trudged through the now open door of their apartment and slumped himself onto their couch and demanded Tommy massage his scalp. Tommy had done it, but he’d been so hyper aware of his growing erection and Jon’s just an arm’s length away and he felt branded the entire time. They never spoke about it, but Tommy felt the undercurrent of things changing between them in his own mind.

He wishes more than anything that he had done something, all those times he could have. Wishes he’d pressed Jon down into the couch and kissed him soundly, changing things for good. He knows he won’t be able to tell Jon, not unless he’s sure Jon is interested. Their friendship is worth too much.

He thumbs through the pictures on his personal phone of Jon, ones where Jon is smiling and laughing because he is just so happy. Those pictures Tommy treasures; they’re the ones he comes back to when he’s really going through it. These are the ones where Jon had been happiest _with Tommy_, where Tommy had been the one to make Jon smile and burst into peals of gleeful laughter. The pictures hurt to look at sometimes- Tommy wants to go back and have it be that easy again but that can’t happen. They’re too far away and too busy. It doesn’t stop Tommy from wanting though– he’ll always be wanting the one person he can’t seem to have.

The clock starts to beep suddenly, the red numbers blinking 5:00 AM at him. Tommy sighs and he pushes those emotions back into their locked box, safe from anyone’s view. He gets up, another shitty night under his belt on this horrible trip and makes his way to the hotel gym to jumpstart his day.

\--

Tommy moves out of the apartment and gets a one bedroom that’s a little too far of a commute, but the price is worth it. He ends up taking the armchair Jon had left with him, because he really can’t part with it. He just shrugs and tries his best not to blush when Favs helps him move and sees it, and then he smirks when Favs, exhausted from the move, sits on the armchair with a groan of satisfaction. Jon would’ve teased them both mercilessly, like he always did when one of them sat in the armchair.

He doesn’t end up feeling much better, but he gets better at hiding it and sleep comes easier than it used to; no one gives him weird looks in the office anymore. He feels the absence of Jon, Favs does too, but it’s not as bad as time goes on. Tommy and Favs find their rhythm, much to the chagrin of Jon, who maintains that he was the glue that kept them together even though Tommy and Favs knew each other before. Tommy still talks to Jon on the phone and Jon has all kinds of stories about the people he’s meeting in LA while his show is finally getting the recognition it deserves, and that’s enough for Tommy in those moments.

It’s been eight months since Jon moved and for the first time since he left, Tommy has one of the worst days he’s had in a while. He’s over thinking things, he knows that, but he can’t help but get home from days of late-night meetings with Ben, Obama, and several other higher ups and feel a sense of despair. Everything is coming to head the next day and Tommy just feels the panic clawing at his throat in a way it’s not done in a while. So, he does the only thing he can think of— he calls Jon.

“Tommy!” Jon exclaims as he answers, the sound of his voice sending relief through Tommy.

“Hey, Jon,” Tommy starts, his voice cracking slightly an edge to it. “How are you doing, man?”

“Oh, you know, just sitting on my couch with a Diet Coke and procrastinating writing the next script,” Jon replies, nonchalant as ever. Tommy knows that’s his cue to laugh, but it gets stuck in his throat.

“That’s not so bad, though,” Tommy says instead, closing his eyes and sliding down onto the floor of his bedroom, back against the wall. “How was your meeting the other day?”

“Good, good. We’re rolling out the scripts now and doing the table reads. But fuck, if I have to deal with any more shitty holier-than-thou-even-though-I’m-a-lowly-agent-and-you’re-the-brilliant-writer fuckheads I will probably not do much, but I will be suffering,” Jon grouses. “Nepotism, Tommy, this whole damn industry is run by fucking nepotism!”

“They’ll see their mistakes soon enough,” Tommy says, automatic. He hates how he sounds, and he knows the second Jon catches on to his crisis because Jon sighs into the receiver.

“Bad day?”

“Yeah, really bad.” Tommy can hear rustling and a grunt. “Just needed to talk to someone.”

“Was I your first choice?”

“Always,” Tommy says. He just can’t stop himself, his brain too crazed to be filtered.

“Pandering,” Jon teases, but he goes quiet. All Tommy can hear is Jon’s breaths and he tries to match them- in and out, in and out, in and out.

Jon has seen him like this before, in the year they lived together, but even before that. Jon was there when Tommy had been like this at work, going into Favs office to panic away from prying eyes. Tommy hadn’t known Jon would be in Favs’ office, but he was, and he had gotten a first-row seat. He helped Tommy get out of his head, made Tommy match his own breathing and comforted him. Jon has seen Tommy at his worst times, so yes, Jon was always his first call no matter what.

“Can you just talk to me?” Tommy asks, voice hoarse and body starting to finally unclench. “Anything, I just want to hear your voice.”

“Can I talk? What kind of absurd question,” Jon mutters playfully, and then softer. “Yeah, Tommy, I can talk.”

Jon launches into a diatribe about Hollywood and nepotism, stopping to go on a tangent about the horribleness of dress pants, and then moving on to explaining his show, which is finally getting produced. Tommy listens and with each word he feels his body and mind melt, settling into something close to normal. He wishes so much that Jon was right here next to him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, wants to feel Jon’s warmth seep into him. He misses Jon _so_ much, the ache in his chest growing, and it sucks. But he’s _fine_, it’s _fine_, Jon is making his dreams come true and Tommy is doing the best job that he can. That’s enough— it has to be.

“Tommy?” Jon questions, stopping mid-rant about the importance of metaphors. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replies, allowing himself to smile. “Metaphors are vital to the process of a long narrative of tv shows.”

“What time is it there?” Lovett asks, as if he can’t do the math on it himself.

Tommy grimaces when he sees the clock. “Nearly midnight.”

“You let me talk for an hour and a half?” Tommy can practically see Jon rolling eyes. “How are you feeling now?”

“Good,” Tommy replies, resigning himself to the fact he should probably sleep soon, but just like every time he talks to Jon, he doesn’t want the phone call to end.

“God, what a mess you are,” Jon says, fond. Tommy feels that fondness down to his toes, and he closes his eyes tight against the feelings it conjures. “You need to sleep, okay? If you sleep now, you’ll have five hours on you.”

“Six, maybe. Ben said to come in a little late tomorrow to compensate for the late-night meetings.”

“How nice of him,” Jon says, sarcastic and just a little spiteful. “Go get those six hours, Tommy. You deserve it.”

“Okay,” Tommy agrees, yawning despite himself. The yawn makes Jon laugh, loud and gleeful, making Tommy laugh too. Easy, it’s always so easy with Jon. “Hey, Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” Tommy says, soft and sincere.

“Anytime,” Jon responds, just as soft. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

“Night, Jon.”

Tommy sits on his floor for another few moments, just reveling in the calm he feels. He feels pretty wrung dry, too, but it’s more in the background to the calm Jon has helped settle in him. He wants to chase it, chase Jon, but he can’t really think about that right now, doesn’t allow himself to for long. He will one day, when things aren’t too much and he can devote himself to it, but right then, he can’t allow it.

So, he gets up and gets ready for bed, loose and calm enough to fall right to sleep when he gets into his bed. He’ll worry about the rest in the morning.

\--

It’s midafternoon and Tommy is just settling down to work when his phone buzzes after a long lunch meeting headed by Susan Rice. He looks to see that it’s from Jon, which is weird because Jon usually calls him.

_You need a vacation. _Another buzz. _Favs says you’re burning out._

Tommy rolls his eyes, but he’s not going to deny it. He feels a distinct heaviness just about everywhere, but especially in his mind. He knows Favs is feeling it too, they’d talked about it and Favs has actually done something to combat it- he’d gotten a week off to go back home to Boston. Tommy wanted to follow Favs north, but his parents were on their own vacation during the time Tommy can take off and he doesn’t want to bother his siblings.

**_Favs got lucky his family is in town when he can take off. _**Tommy waits a moment before adding: **_Why are you texting and not calling me?_**

_Trying a new mode of communication out,_ comes the quick response. _Your family won’t be in town when you can get off?_

** _My parents will be in Italy and don’t want to bother anyone else._ **

_Ever the chivalrous Vietor child._

Tommy ignores Jon and checks his email, trying to see if anything urgent needs his attention. There isn’t.

_WAIT- Come visit me!_

Another buzz. _I’ll be a great host and you can sleep on my very comfortable couch. I’ve slept there many a night and made it all squishy. I can show you LA! I’ve seen Favs’ pictures of you, you could use the tan._

**_You’d be a terrible host. _**Tommy writes, just to be contrary. **_But sure Lovett I’ll come visit you. _**Then, just to push the envelope, **_are you good with me coming next weekend?_**

_Am **I **good with that?? Yes Tommy I’m 100% good with that. Not like I haven’t been saying you and Favs should visit me every other day._

** _Okay, I’ll check out the flights and resubmit my request._ **

_GOOD! Finally you listen to me. Never thought I’d see the day._

Tommy shakes his head with a laugh, forgetting for a moment he’s still at work and there’s people around him. **_Shut up Lovett._**

_Normally I’d say make me but that doesn’t quite work through text._

** _Doesn’t quite work, no._ **

Jon doesn’t reply so Tommy goes to talk to Ben about taking the dates he’d asked for before off, which Ben gives without complaint. When he gets home, he goes straight to his laptop to get the plane tickets, and within ten minutes he’s booked a flight and sent the details to Jon.

He’d been so quick to just get everything done that he hadn’t let himself think it out thoroughly, but as he stares at the confirmation email, it sinks in. He’s going to be spending five days in LA with Jon. He’s going to be seeing Jon _in person_, for the first time since Jon had left. The happiness alone he knows will carry him into the next week. God, he can’t fucking wait.

\--

The airplane tickets were expensive, with how late he’d gotten them, but he’s never been happier to leave a city in his life. DC is a beautiful city, but he just needed to get out. He has to sit in a middle seat, one of the last seats available though Tommy can’t find it in himself to care. He’s going to be in LA and seeing Jon’s face in less than six hours - nothing can ruin the excitement coursing through his veins. He even manages to sleep for three hours, the neck pillow that’s saved him many a times while flying with the press corps saving him from bumping into the people on either side of him.

Jon is waiting for him at the baggage claim, in a pink shirt and jeans, holding a sign that reads Tommy’s full name, roman numeral and all. When he gets closer, he can see that under his name Lovett has written “who finally took my advice and came to visit one, Jonathan Ira Lovett, first of his name.”

He laughs, loud and boisterous, not caring about those around them. Jon’s giving him a proud smile that Tommy’s not seen in person for such a long time. He has to remind himself that this is real and not a dream, that Jon Lovett is actually in front of him, smiling big so that his eyes crinkle. Fond, Tommy feels inexplicably fond and so happy. He knows that he’s so very screwed, but he doesn’t care. He’s been able to hide his feelings for over a year, what’s a few days in close proximity with Jon again?

“How was your flight?” Jon asks, reaching up to give Tommy a hug. It feels too right, like Tommy’s bursting at the seams but he’s not letting go before Jon does.

“Good, I managed to sleep some,” Tommy replies into Jon’s hair, a sensation that makes Jon pull back and laugh.

“I gotta say, Vietor, it’s really sad that you sleep best on airplanes. I bet Favs hates you for it.”

“He takes his Xanax,” Tommy shrugs, grinning.

“Yeah, he does.”

Tommy looks Jon over again and sees that Jon’s developed a tan. He looks healthier too, the bags under his eyes that he’d developed with everyone else at the White House nearly nonexistent. Tommy knows that next to Jon he must look wrecked, too gaunt. Jon doesn’t comment, instead leads Tommy to his car and chatters away about nothing at all. Tommy does nothing but sit, eyes closed and grinning, nodding and humming along to everything Jon says, relaxed for the first time in months.

As it turns out, Jon isn’t a bad host at all. He doesn’t expect Tommy to do much, and they fall into the achingly similar pattern they had when they lived together. He takes Tommy to Santa Monica and Tommy does tan, with Lovett making comments about his biceps that make him blush. He takes Tommy to his favorite restaurant in West Hollywood and shows him around the touristy spots, but the part Tommy cherishes is when they’re alone in Jon’s apartment.

That first night Jon gets Tommy tipsy. Jon tells joke after joke, loosening Tommy up so that he doesn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore. Tommy’s eyes keep falling on Jon’s mouth and it’s maddening just how many times he has to force himself to look away. He knows Jon clearly sees him do it, but neither make a move. He thinks Jon is probably chalking it up to the alcohol and Tommy lets him. He gives Tommy a blanket and a pillow, both smelling so much like Jon that Tommy feels lightheaded.

Tommy sleeps the whole night through on that couch, not getting up until well after nine am, which Tommy hasn’t been able to do since his days in Iowa. Jon gives him shit for it, proud that he is the one to get Tommy to finally sleep all night. _Yeah, because you’re here with me, _Tommy thinks as he gives Jon the middle finger. 

On Tommy’s last night, Jon gets tipsy with Tommy following slowly behind. Tommy has a flight at noon the next day and he doesn’t want to be on a plane hungover, but that doesn’t stop Jon from egging him on. He doesn’t rise to the bait, but he gives as good as he gets. 

They trade stories again. Jon regaling Tommy with stories that he’s been saving all week for Tommy’s arrival, all perfectly exaggerated to make Tommy laugh. Tommy tells him some stories too, about his trip to Turkey with Obama and about moving. He lets it slip that Favs had been the one to bring the armchair up and seemed to question all of Tommy’s life choices while doing it. 

“You kept Brunilda?” Jon looks at Tommy with surprise, Tommy blushing under his gaze. 

“First, it’s still weird that you named that armchair-”

“She had character-” Jon fires back, passionate as ever. 

“And second, yeah. I kept it. People have to sit somewhere.”

“Don’t lie, Vietor. No matter how much you battered and bruised Brunilda with your rude insults, not even you could admit that she wasn’t comfortable as hell.”

“God.” Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shut up, Lovett.”

“Actions count, Tommy!” Jon laughs when Tommy swats at his arm, twisting away before Tommy can land it.

“Favs sits on it whenever he comes over.”

“You sentimental saps,” Jon sighs, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I knew you missed me.”

“Who said that?” Tommy teases, because he can’t just say, _of course I missed you, how could I not?_

“I spice up your lives.” Jon waves out a hand and almost smacks Tommy in the face. “Who else would rant to you about the poor condition of the gay dating pool in DC or the shitty traffic pattern of DC, something that I maintain _still_ needs changed!”

“You rant to me on the phone all the time,” Tommy deadpans, laughing as Jon sputters.

“You may make a fair point, Tommy, but I resent it,” Jon replies, sniffing his hurt.

“You’ll live.”

Jon doesn’t respond but he does knock his knee against Tommy’s. Tommy responds by pressing his knee back against Jon’s leg and keeps it there. He feels slightly like he’s walking around blind, not knowing if he should act on his feelings or keep them buried where they’ve always been. This foreplay they have going is teetering on the edge of too far, but Tommy doesn’t want to fully tip their balance. He has to leave tomorrow and he doesn’t want to make things weird. So, he keeps his hands to himself even if knees seem to be on the table.

He looks away, knowing that if he doesn’t, he’ll mess everything up and hate himself. Instead, he mirrors Jon’s position on the couch, head tilted back and arms loose at his sides. 

“Favs thinks that we should start to make plans about leaving.”

“Really?” Jon sounds surprised but Tommy doesn’t look back at him.

“Yeah, after the election is over and we find replacements.” Tommy has been trying not to think too much about it, because it’s a huge change, but after spending four days away from all the madness, he’s regretting even trying to go back. 

“It’s a good idea,” Jon says carefully, as if knowing the mood Tommy is edging into. A mood where he feels hopeless and scared. “Take it from someone who did leave. It’ll be the biggest breath of fresh air when you walk out of that building for the last time as an employee. Euphoric, even.”

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, moving his head to look sideways at Jon.

“Absolutely.” Jon looks too sincere, so Tommy nods his understanding and looks away. 

“I’ll talk to Favs again,” Tommy replies. He knows he’s already made up his mind, had done so the moment Jon echoed his very thoughts. A breath of fresh air is exactly what he needs.

They’re silent again. Tommy looks down at his right hand, sees how close Jon’s hand is to his own and just stares.

He could do it, right then and there. Just give in to his wants and take Jon’s hand and squeeze. He could pour all his desires into that one gesture and Jon could see on his face just how much he _feels_. He could use his words, could tell Jon all the things he’s kept close to his heart, buried deep and locked away. He could let it all loose, could leave himself bare for Jon’s eyes only.

But he doesn’t. He keeps it all to himself like he’s always done. He leaves Jon in LA feeling nothing but regret, but he can live with that if it means he didn’t mess up. There’s always next time, he tells himself, there’s always next time.

\--

His last day at the White House is anticlimactic and he’s glad for it. He and Favs are leaving together, which Jon had teased them about mercilessly, but Tommy is happy for it. It was the right decision, both he and Favs knowing it was time to move on and let others rise to the occasion.

Everyone he sees gives him a handshake and President Obama tells him he’s been a huge help, that he wishes Tommy the best. Favs smiles at him at the end of the day over his cardboard box of things and they leave together, giving their badges to the guard at the checkpoint. It should feel strange and yet all Tommy can feel is relief.

“It’s bittersweet,” Favs says as he turns to look back at the White House wistfully. “We worked so hard and did so much, but fuck am I glad to have less to worry about.”

“No more national secrets,” Tommy responds, laughing when Favs nods fervently.

“No more worrying if what I’ve written is good enough,” Favs sighs heavily, rolling his shoulder a bit. “Speaking of which, Lovett wanted us to call him before we left the premises.”

“Of course, he does,” Tommy says, rolling his eyes. Trust Jon to want to be a part of their last day. They set their boxes down and Favs does the honors of calling.

Jon picks up on the third ring, his voice singsong and blaring while on speaker phone, “How does it feel to be free?”

“Jesus, Lovett, we’re not even off the lawn yet,” Favs groans, breaking into a wide grin when he meets Tommy’s eyes.

“It feels great, Jon,” Tommy says, making his voice mock serious and Favs laughs.

“Take a selfie in front of the White House and send it to me! If only selfies were popular when I left, what an epic picture I would have taken.”

“You still can,” Tommy reassures him, not outright telling Jon no. He already knows he’ll do it just to make Jon smile.

“It won’t be the same, Tommy! This is me imparting this on you, so you both can start the trend of saying a last goodbye to your previous employers with a selfie! I’m a genius, it’ll be a hit,” Jon laughs and fuck, Tommy is so endeared. He tries to squash the feeling, but Favs has already seen the dopey smile- there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Okay, Lovett. We’ll take the picture and send it,” Favs agrees easily.

“And post it to social media!”

“And post it to social media,” Tommy repeats. Their friendship dynamic hasn’t changed that much, Tommy thinks with surprise, Jon always takes the lead and Favs and Tommy follow his lead like they always have.

“Good, great,” Jon sounds pleased, “I gotta go back to my meeting but make sure you celebrate your freedom the right way.”

“And what way is that?” Favs asks, raising one of his eyebrows.

“By getting drunk, of course,” Jon answers, mock exasperated. “I’m gone for nearly two years and you guys forget how to celebrate properly. Figures.”

“Okay, goodbye, Lovett,” Favs singsongs, laughing again when Jon singsongs his goodbye back to them.

Tommy’s sure he looks like an idiot, his smile too big and fond. Favs is looking at him like he’s trying to puzzle something together but Tommy just shrugs, pulling out his phone to take the selfie for Jon. They look like dorks, standing with their too big heads against the White House’s darkening front and that fact alone will make Jon tease them forever for it.

He sends it off and gets an almost immediate response, _HAH!_ _My two boys. _He couldn’t wipe the smile that seems stuck on his face even if he tried.

They take a taxi back to Favs’ apartment, his closer than Tommy’s, and crack open some Blue Moons.

“So, have you decided about where you’re going?” Favs questions.

Favs already has a plan, he’s following Jon out to LA. Tommy has been thinking about what he wants to do, but he’s just not sure yet. He’s had a few offers, all punditry work, but none of them in LA. The closest was San Francisco, a city Tommy has never been before. It’s an appealing offer, a fresh start talking about things he already knows about. All he has to do is jump.

“San Francisco looks good,” Tommy replies, shrugging. “It pays good and it’ll be a nice change.”

“You sure I can’t convince you to follow Lovett and I down to LA?” Favs offers a sheepish smile. “We could be the three Obama pundits taking on the City of Angels.”

Tommy looks down at his beer and sighs. “No, I think I’ll hold off on LA for a little while. Besides, I could always drive down to visit.”

What Tommy doesn’t say is Tommy can’t go to LA and be around Jon just now. He can’t say to Favs that the real reason is that Jon is getting serious with his new boyfriend and Tommy doesn’t want to see that in person. Jon is getting serious with his new boyfriend he met right after Tommy left LA. He’s lucky Jon doesn’t tell him much, but that doesn’t stop Tommy from seeing the tweets or Instagram pictures. It hurts too much. 

“You are always welcome to visit,” Favs replies, sincere like always. Tommy looks up because despite the sincerity, there’s a slight thoughtfulness to Favs’ voice that tips him off. Favs is giving him an assessing look. “Is it Lovett?”

Tommy swallows thickly, his heart beginning to drum loudly in his ears. He’d been so damn careful. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Tommy,” Favs chides softly, “I’ve known you for nearly a decade. Give me a little credit.”

Tommy doesn’t reply right away, doesn’t even know what to say or where to start. “I thought- I don’t know, I thought when I went to see him that I’d realize I was just imagining it all.”

“Fuck,” Jon whispers, putting two and two together.

Tommy nods, frowning. “I just- He hasn’t changed a damn bit, you know? I went to LA and it was like old times. Things felt right again.” His voice cracks a bit, but he ignores it. “I hate the saying, ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder,’ because it’s never been truer than with him. It didn’t hit me until we were in Seoul and I couldn’t fucking call him with the time difference and not having the cell service.”

“Seoul? Tommy, that was so long ago, fuck.” Favs gives him a sympathetic look, Tommy hates it. “All this time?”

Tommy can only nod. All the relief from earlier is gone, misery clouding everything out.

“Have you told him?”

Tommy gives a bitter laugh, suddenly wanting to cry. “And say what? ‘Hey, Jon. Remember when we lived together, and you fucking left me? Turns out during that time I fell head over heels in love with you but didn’t realize it until I was six thousand miles away.’” He shakes his head, eyes prickling. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up. He’s been in LA and I just ended four years in the White House. He’s in a relationship and seems happy. I can’t take that away from him just to be selfish. I- I can’t lose him, too.”

Favs doesn’t say anything else, just puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes. Tommy’s glad for it - he doesn’t want to say anything more because then he won’t be able to stop.

He leaves soon after, promising to help Favs pack and Favs promises to do the same. They pack their lives into boxes and Tommy finds a place in San Francisco, accepting the punditry job. They both move across the country, Favs to LA and Tommy to San Francisco, chasing the fresh start that he so badly craves.

\--

Tommy finally tries to put himself out there when Favs urges him to. He gets a dating app and set his preferences as both male and female, the first time he’s allowed himself to publicly report such a thing, feeling terrified and invigorated all at once. He goes on dates, puts himself out there and is proud of himself when things click with a guy named Eric. They go on several dates with Tommy getting laid on the third, but things end a few weeks after that. Tommy is relieved when it comes to head as he had begun to feel like he was second guessing himself at every turn. He couldn’t read the cues he normally could, it’d just been too long, and he hates the uncertainty it causes.

Jon and Favs come up for a spontaneous trip a few weeks later, after Tommy is done feeling sorry for himself. He hides it well and Favs doesn’t ask him about the dates. He takes them to places he hasn’t been to yet, like the Palace of Fine Arts, and takes them to the little gems he’s found around his apartment. It’s at the sports bar down the road that Tommy finds the courage to tell them about Eric.

“A date? Tommy, that’s great!” Favs exclaims, knocking his shoulder against Tommy’s.

“It didn’t work out, though. He wanted to be exclusive, but I wasn’t ready for that yet,” Tommy forces himself to say, glancing at Jon's slack-jawed and shocked expression.

“I’m sorry, pause, hold on- did you just say he? Male pronoun, he?” Jon asks, his voice a little hysterical.

Tommy nods, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I did.”

Favs looks between them nervously and Tommy feels guilty for doing this in front of him, but Tommy wouldn’t be able to tell Jon all on his own. He’s not brave enough.

“But you’re straight!”

Tommy shakes his head. “I’m not. I don’t think I ever was. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Bisexual fits,” Tommy clarifies. He watches as Jon’s face contorts into different emotions: surprise, confusion, suspicion.

“Favs knew?” Jon asks, nodding over at Favs. He looks hurt, Tommy can see that clear as day, and he fucking hates that he did that to Jon, but he doesn’t want to take it back. 

“Hey, I guessed. But I haven’t known for long.” Favs explains, putting his hands up plaintively.

“You should’ve told me, I’m your best friend,” Jon says, ignoring Favs, making Tommy look at him with a kick to his shin.

“I didn’t know how!”

“That’s dumb! You’re so fucking dumb, Tommy Vietor,” Jon exclaims, sitting back in his seat hard, arms crossed over with a huff.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Tommy mutters. He doesn’t try to say anything else, because out of everyone he knows, Jon would be the most understanding. He should have come to Jon earlier, but then everything he’s been trying to hold close would come falling out. No, it’s better like this, with Favs there to save him from tripping over his own words.

Jon doesn’t talk to him much after that, just sits and watches Tommy, considering. All Tommy can offer is a sheepish smile before turning to Favs, letting Favs carry the conversation for them.

When they’re leaving, with Tommy feeling like he’s just fucked everything up, Jon comes up and hugs Tommy tightly. Tommy is so grateful that he doesn’t let Jon pull back when he first tries to, just holds onto him like he’s always wanted to, like Jon is the important thing in the world. For Tommy, he is.

Jon tries to pull back a second time, this time harder, and Tommy lets him go, taking a deep shuddering breath to try and calm himself down. Jon hears it and looks up at Tommy’s face sharply, immediately softening with what he sees.

“I’m sorry I got upset,” Jon whispers, gripping Tommy’s bicep, grounding him, “I know how difficult it can be to come out. I just want you to know that you can tell me anything, okay?” After Tommy nods, Jon exhales heavily, smiling a shy smile. “I’m happy for you, Tommy.”

The relief he feels is palpable, “Thank you, Jon.”

Tommy looks up finally, forcing himself to look away from Jon. He catches Favs’ eye and smiles a wet smile when Favs offers him a grin and two thumbs up.

\--

The months come and go fast. Favs gets engaged, Tommy sees a few more people, and Jon breaks up with his boyfriend. Tommy tries not to feel hopeful, knows that Jon is hurting, but he can’t help it. He thinks he’s deserved the right to be just a little selfish. They’re so close now and Tommy wants to drive down to tell him, but he gives Jon his space. He gives Jon a shoulder to cry on and shoves everything down, like any good friend would do. Jon comes up to San Francisco again a few weeks later, citing the need to get out LA to clear his head, and Tommy enthusiastically agrees.

Jon arrives in a flurry of actions that only he could achieve. He’s carrying his bags in with Pundit comes with him this time and Tommy is grateful for that because it means Tommy can distract himself with her rather than feel overwhelmed by Jon’s presence.

“She’s going to get so spoiled here,” Jon exclaims as he reenters Tommy’s apartment with Pundits bag. Jon kicks off his shoes and closes Tommy’s front door, going straight for Tommy’s couch with a tired grunt.

“As she deserves,” Tommy replies in his dog voice, laughing as Pundit enthusiastically licks and nips at his face. “Isn’t that right, girl?”

“The I-5 was a nightmare,” Jon groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I think my right leg is going to fall off from all that driving.”

Tommy chuckles into Pundit’s fur, trying to mask the gratitude that shoots through him. He takes Pundit over to Jon and laughs when she misses her landing and half falls into Jon’s stomach, licking his face to apologize after he grunts in surprise.

“Why are Californians such shitty drivers? I’m gay and I’m a better driver than every single one of those people out on the highway today,” Jon grumbles, snuggling into Pundit’s fur.

“Do you want anything? I got some lite beers and Diet Coke for you,” Tommy asks, motioning to his kitchen.

“Diet Coke,” Jon replies, watching Tommy move into the kitchen, which causes Tommy’s back feel hot. “I’ve sworn off alcohol! I’m never drinking again, ugh.”

“The hangovers are getting harder,” Tommy comments, not knowing what to say because he doesn’t want to be the one to bring up Jon’s recent break up. He’s been in Jon’s shoes before, he knows the value of not talking about the hard things.

“Do you feel up for going out to dinner or do you want me to order in?” Tommy asks when he returns with the Diet Coke for Jon and a bowl of water for Pundit.

“Order in,” Jon says automatically, slumping further into the couch. “I’m not moving from this spot for the next two hours.”

“Your leg would feel better if you walked around,” Tommy half-heartedly responds because he also doesn’t feel like going out. He’d much rather eat take out and have Jon talk to him.

“And my back would be happier if I remained in this spot,” Jon argues, smiling up at Tommy when he shakes his head. “Can we get some burgers?”

Tommy agrees, knowing exactly where to call for their orders. He sits back down afterwards only for Jon to change positions and shove his legs onto Tommy’s lap.

“You comfortable?” Tommy asks, heart in his throat as he stares down at Jon’s content smile.

“Yup,” Jon replies, pressing the Coke can into his forehead. “If only you wanted to be my boyfriend. You’d make a better boyfriend than any I’ve had,” Jon sounds wistful, glancing at Tommy with a quick conspiratorial grin before he looks away again.

Hope. Tommy can feel it in his fucking teeth, coursing through him like a lightning strike. Tommy can do this. He can just tell Jon that yes, he’d be the perfect boyfriend for Jon, that he loves him, has been in love with him for years. It’s as good a chance as any, Jon basically gave him an opening, the only opening Jon has ever given him. All he has to do is open his mouth and tell Jon.

“I do,” Tommy blurts out, too loud and frantic. He puts his hand on Jon’s exposed ankle, as if trying to hold him in place. “I do.”

Jon startles, looking back at Tommy sharply. “What?”

Tommy swallows hard as Jon sits up, taking his legs off Tommy’s lap to sit on top of them. “I want to be your boyfriend. I have for a long time.”

“How long is a long time?” Jon asks, too quiet and so unlike him.

“I figured it out in Seoul,” Tommy says, looking away.

“It?” Jon sounds breathless. Tommy makes himself look up again, has to see Jon when Tommy tells him the truth. He just has to get it out before he clams up and retreats.

“I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years,” Tommy confesses, looking between Jon’s eyes, searching.

Jon looks back, breathless and startled, mouth going slack. Tommy’s never quite managed to make Jon speechless before and if it were any other time, he’d revel in it. Now though, he wants to run and hide.

He waits another few moments, the anxiety rising too high for him to stay still, so he stands up. Or at least he tries to. When he’s halfway up, Jon forces him back down, grunting with the effort and climbing into Tommy’s lap quickly.

“Just!” Jon says quickly, holding Tommy’s shoulders against the back of the couch firmly, “Just give me a minute to catch up.”

Tommy can only nod. He tries to breathe in and out to calm himself down because Jon is still there. He’s still there and he hasn’t run for the hills, cursing Tommy’s name as he goes. Tommy can work with this, he can, if only Jon would let him try. He hopes he does, god does he hope Jon will let him try.

“You have the worst timing in the world, Vietor,” Jon murmurs finally. Tommy looks up and finds Jon is looking down at him with a familiar fondness. Fuck, Tommy wants to kiss him so badly.

“I know,” Tommy agrees. Easy, so fucking easy with Jon.

“Like the worst timing. Are you saying I could’ve been kissing you this whole time?” Jon pushes forward so that his ass is fully seated on Tommy’s legs. Tommy takes the initiative to put his hands-on Jon’s hips, holding him close. Finally, _finally_.

“Well, I wasn’t saying that exactly,” Tommy says, voice cracking despite his teasing words. Too much, he feels too much and it’s so good– even in his wildest fantasies it’s never felt this good.

“Years, Tommy, years! Jesus, you’re such a fucking masochist,” Jon barrels forward, leaning his forehead onto Tommy’s.

“I know.”

“And you are the most ridiculous man in the world.”

“I know.”

Jon shakes his head, chuckling. “I don’t think you do, because what I’m trying to show you but you’re dumbass self isn’t realizing is that I love you too and you should really start kissing me, what with me in a prime position in your lap ready and-”

Tommy doesn’t waste his time waiting after that clear invitation, forging up and pressing his mouth to Jon’s. Finally, _fucking finally._

Jon presses down into him, laughing when Tommy breaks the kiss to let out a moan.

“A disaster,” Jon whispers, grinning widely.

“Your disaster?” Tommy asks, the euphoria making him sappier than normal. Jon saying love is reverberating inside his head like a chant. He never wants it to end.

“Yeah, Tommy, my disaster.” Jon says, and it sounds like the best thing that Tommy has ever heard. Jon bends and kisses Tommy again. Tommy doesn’t know how much time passes and he doesn’t care. He has all he needs right there in his arms. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the smutty epilogue:

Jon makes an impatient noise, tugging at Tommy’s hair. “I know this may seem like a rush, seeing as this is the first time we’ve kissed, but can we-”

Tommy groans, cutting off Jon with another kiss because he doesn’t know if he can hear the end of that sentence without losing his mind. He’s in overdrive, he knows this, fully overwhelmed and content, but he thinks he can be greedy if Jon is going to be. “You want to?”

Jon laughs giddily, “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to.”

“Shut up,” Tommy replies, because he can’t think of an adequate response to that. Instead, he plants his feet on the ground and place his hands under Jon’s ass, and hauls them both up off the couch. He enjoys the way Jon sputters and grips Tommy’s shoulders in surprise, but Tommy doesn’t stop to bask in it, just moves straight to his bedroom.

Tommy drops Jon onto his bed clumsily, both of them laughing as Tommy tips their foreheads together and tries to catch his breath. He wants to do so much, wants to give Lovett so much, but he doesn’t know where to start. He wants to touch Jon everywhere, wants to trail his lips along the path his hands take. Tommy wants to make Jon as crazy as he feels, wants to have Jon bursting like he is. Tommy wants to find out what Jon wants, what he likes, wants to hear Jon in all his glory. God, he wants, and he wants, and he wants, and now he can finally have.

“God, if I’d known it’d be this easy to get you into bed,” Jon murmurs, chuckling as he trails off, pushing his body into Tommy’s searching hands and mouth. The chuckle turns into a moan when Tommy bites at his jaw in retaliation, the sound vibrating through Tommy’s entire body. _Fuck_.

“It would have been so easy,” Tommy agrees, lifting his head to look down at Jon, whose lips look so plump with his eyes looking slightly glassy, “All you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck, Tommy,” Jon closes his eyes, sucking in a shaky breath. Tommy doesn’t want Jon to think about the years they’ve missed out on right now, only wants Jon to stay in the present.

He grabs the edges of Jon’s shirt, pulling it up when Jon nods jerkily, like he’s too far gone to care. Tommy follows suit, shucking his shirt off and throwing it gracelessly into the corner of the room with little thought. He pushes Jon backward until Jon is in the middle of the bed, and then Tommy pulls at Jon’s jeans. Jon lifts his hips, just as easy for it as Tommy, who pulls off his own jeans, wanting to be skin to skin so badly. He doesn’t touch their briefs, leaves them on for both of them, to prolong the inevitable. Tommy knows that if they go too fast, this will be over quickly. He can see it on Jon’s face, the need, and he can feel it in himself too. He doesn’t want this moment to end, so he forces himself to go slower. 

He climbs up the bed until he’s hovering over Jon, their faces close but not touching. Jon moves to close the gap, puts his hands to Tommy’s hips to pull him flush his own hips, but Tommy shakes his head, pulling out of Jon’s grasp, “Relax, I want to take care of you.”

“Tommy,” Jon whimpers, reaching for Tommy again, “I need you to touch me.”

“I will,” Tommy says, taking Jon’s hands into his own and trapping them above their heads, “I’m going to take such good care of you, baby.”

Jon whimpers again and opens his mouth, probably to protest, but Tommy kisses him and swallow his words. He presses Jon’s hands into the mattress and let’s go, hoping Jon gets that Tommy wants him to keep his hands right where they are. Jon does get it- he doesn’t move them, just watches with bated breath as Tommy nods his approval and trails his hands down Jon’s arms, making Jon shiver.

“So good, baby,” Tommy whispers, his lips kissing a trail down Jon’s neck. “You’re so good.”

Jon moans, pressing his face into his arm to muffle the noise. Tommy won’t stand for that; he’s waited years to hear Jon like this, needy and wanting. He pulls back and gently nips back up to Jon’s ear, “I want to hear you. Let me hear you.”

Jon groans, loud and right next to Tommy’s ear, and fuck Tommy can feel that in his fucking toes. “Fuck, Tommy. You’re driving me crazy, _fuck!”_

“Good,” Tommy says, his hands coming down to grip Jon’s hips, pushing his own into Jon’s, “Do you feel how crazy you make me, too?”

Jon nods shakily, pushing up to create some kind of friction, and they both moan at the sensation. “You’re such a fucking menace,” Tommy mumbles, kissing him again, gripping him hard.

“Fucking do something, Tommy,” Jon pants, moving his hands to grip at the bedsheets, “I need you to _do something!”_

Tommy obliges, slipping his hand down to palm at Jon’s cock through his briefs, “Like this?”

“Yes,” Jon gasps out, “Feels so good.”

Tommy grins, but doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t apply anymore pressure. Instead, he brings his teeth to Jon pectoral, biting and then soothing it with his tongue. Jon hisses, blinking down at Tommy like he can’t actually believe Tommy did that to him, but he doesn’t say anything, just throws his head back and breathes heavily.

Tommy feels like he’s on fire, watching and hearing Jon like this. He keeps nipping and sucking all along Jon’s chest, basking in the sounds Jon makes. Jon finally gives up trying to keep his hands on the sidelines and brings them to Tommy’s hair, tugging to pull Tommy up to kiss him. They move together, legs intertwined and hips trying to find the right friction, but the dry humping just doesn’t feel good anymore, Tommy wants to feel so much more.

He moves off the bed, chuckling when Jon gives him a glare and pushes himself onto his elbows. He doesn’t give Jon time to protest, just tugs at Jon’s briefs. Jon gets that message loud and clear, lifting his hips to help. Tommy’s briefs follow Jon’s quickly and soon their pressed together again, fully skin to skin, and god, it’s so much better than anything Tommy’s fantasies could have conjured up. Tommy reaches for the lube on his bedside table, uncapping it to pour into his hand. Jon watches, glassy eyed, and Tommy can see the moment Jon zeros in on Tommy’s hand reaching for his cock.

“I’ve thought about this,” Tommy says, wrapping his hand around Jon with a light squeeze. Jon moans, pushing his hips up into Tommy’s grip, heady. It’s incredibly hot, watching Jon take his pleasure from Tommy like this, like a hot wire is running up and down his spine at the sight. “I’ve thought about all the ways I could make you come.”

“Oh, fuck,” Jon pants out, thrusting into Tommy’s fitst again and again. “Tommy, you gotta-”

“I’ve thought about eating you out,” Tommy continues, cutting Jon off. He puts his hand on Jon’s hips and pushing down to stop Jon from thrusting up. “Just using my tongue and fingers to make you come.”

Jon tries to move his hips again, but Tommy doesn’t let up, which elicits a frustrated groan from Jon, much to Tommy’s satisfaction. God, Tommy’s wanted to do this to Jon for so long, wanted to hold him down, to just give and take, and now he gets to. He almost loses himself then, almost gives in to Jon, but he wants to have this moment last a little longer, to have it seared into both of their memories.

“I’ve thought about how every time you act like a brat,” Tommy says, his hand on Jon’s hip, squeezing for emphasis, “that I could just shut you up by holding you down and have you suck me off or me sucking you off.” Tommy squeezes Jon’s cock as he moves his fist up and then down.

“Please, Tommy,” Jon pants, moving a hand from the sheets to grab at Tommy’s upper arm. “I need- I need you to go faster.”

Tommy feels so much, edging on too much, so he relents, pumping his fist again in a way that makes Jon keen loudly.

“Christ, Jon,” Tommy groans, putting his forehead onto Jon’s chest so he can try and get some control.

“Don’t stop,” Jon very nearly begs, moving his hands to Tommy’s back and shoulder blades, “Tommy, please!”

And just like that, all the control Tommy has tried to keep a hold on is gone. He’s sure this moment will be seared in his memory anyways, because he grips both of their cocks into his hand, moving so that they’re both side by side and facing each other. This feeling, this feeling is amazing. He fumbles for the lube, slicking them up quickly. When he wraps his hand around them both again, it’s all too much. He knows they’re both close, can feel it in the way Jon pumps his hips into Tommy’s fist, creating even more sensations. _Too fucking much!_

“Fucking hell, Jon,” Tommy gasps out, pulling Jon’s lips to his own, “I need you to come, baby. Want to see you come.”

Jon gives a shout, hips stuttering, and then he’s spilling into Tommy’s hand. Tommy feels like a lightning bolt hits him as he looks at Jon, seeing the aftershocks move through him and finally, _finally, _Tommy comes, too.

They lay together, breathing hard, basking in the afterglow. Tommy’s never felt more content in his life, and seeing Jon blissed out like he is, just makes Tommy incandescently happy. They made it, after all these years, they fucking made it to each other, and it’s all Tommy has hoped for.

Tommy is the first to move, pulls himself from Jon’s arms and wets a washcloth to clean them both off.

“So, chivalrous,” Jon mumbles, laughing when Tommy pinches him and turns him so that his back is against Tommy’s front. He kisses the notches of Jon’s spine, nosing at the hair at Jon’s neck and, _fuck_, he’s so happy.

“I try,” Tommy says against Jon’s skin, smiling when Jon shivers.

“So, to stop that running intellect, all I had to do was talk dirty?” Tommy teases, trailing his nose from side to side on Jon’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” Jon replies, swatting at Tommy with a chuckle. “I didn’t come all this way to get bullied.”

“I think that part’s just a bonus.”

“Nah,” Jon drawls, turning his face to smile back at Tommy, “Nah, I think the bonus was that my best friend saying that he loved me.”

“Hmmm,” Tommy hums, kissing him again, “I think so, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! Thank you for reading!


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